The boy of the past

who lived in a home

where comforts were seldom

and while left alone

he’d cry for his mother

who stayed out all night

after her shift

she’d head for the light

of houses tucked away

in the cities and towns

to smoke up her poison

and then run around

a little bit longer

to hit up the bars

laughing and lounging

while leaving the scars

on the boy left alone

at home with his tears

his anxiety and racing heart

his thoughts and his fears

She never came home

one night after partaking

in the temporary pleasures

and upon her boy waking

to the knock at the door

the boy thought she was home

and all his pain left

His hurt was now gone

but the policeman brought sorrows

The boy learned of her death

but he was already dying

and with what he had left

he lost all control

and the same path began

Just like his mother

he did not give a damn

He hung out in the houses

in the cities and towns

He lived at the bars

and kept himself down

He went home one night

and found himself alone

just like he had been

before he had grown

He took all the pills

and finished the booze

and left the world peacefully

with nothing to lose